You And I (SomaXErina)

Chapter 1: You and I

Disclaimer: Erina would get wayyyy more screen time if I owned SnS. But she doesn't.

Warning: This chapter is RATED M for sexual content! Read at your own discretion.

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He saunters into her room like he's done it a thousand times, and while that may be an exaggeration, it isn't entirely untrue. Whirling around from her desk in the corner, she shoots him an irritated glare before returning to her work. Probably that essay for our Food Safety and Regulations class, he thinks absentmindedly while closing and locking the door behind him.

Her room is dark save for the light shimmering from the lamp on her desk, but it's enough to allow him to navigate through. Unlike his room, hers is pretentiously immaculate, and he doesn't have to worry about tripping over haphazardly thrown clothing.

"Not even a sarcastic remark, Nakiri? I must be losing my touch," he teases, automatically removing his jacket and loosening the tie of his uniform. He pauses momentarily, idly wondering when he became so accustomed to undressing upon entering her room, but hangs his clothing on her coatrack nonetheless. Approaching her from behind, he rests his hands on top of her shoulders, kneading the skin beneath her blouse with his thumbs. Her blazer and bow had already been discarded, he notes. She tenses upon contact, but quickly relaxes into his touch. "Or maybe you've just gotten used to me."

At his remark, she scoffs. "Oh please, no one but you is uncivilized enough to walk into a girl's room without knocking." Her tone is condescending, but the way her head reclines back against his abdomen, eyes closed, is ample evidence that she is enjoying his ministrations enough to not really care for his lack of manners.

"Why knock when you know I'm coming?"

"It's been a few days," she murmurs, her shoulders imperceptibly drooping. The action does not elude him. "Besides, what if I had been in the middle of changing?" He brushes her hair to one side and moves one of his thumbs to the back of her neck, rubbing circles along the side of her spine. Her head instinctively drops forward to give him better access.

"It would have been nothing I haven't seen before," he shrugs, the corner of his lips stretching upwards as he watches her skin redden beneath his fingertips.

"Shut up," she hisses, "You're just further proving my point about your incivility."

He merely chuckles, looking over her to take a look at her desk. As he predicted, the paper in front of her contains notes for their joint class, though other files are stacked neatly at the corner of her desk. He discerns that they're in English, but his knowledge of the language isn't proficient enough for him to read it upon a glance. He keeps the thought in the back of his head in case he wants to ask her about them later.

"Eeeeh, you look like you have your paper all planned out! You should let me copy it later," he jests, bringing his face next to hers to get a better look at her essay. She doesn't even flinch, but one of her eyes peek open at him.

"As if, Yukihira. Do your own work."

He supposes the fact that she hasn't moved away is a good indication that their relationship, whatever relationship that is, has progressed since their first year at Totsuki. Two years can change a lot of people.